After everything the Russian mob boss Anton Avdonin has done to keep his family
safe from the dangers of the world surrounding them, he never thought it would
come down to this. The officials are knocking, the charges are piling, his wife
is hurting, and they’re facing a fate he never thought to consider. He didn’t
just make one mistake … no, he made many. It’s time to answer for them
all.

Viviana “Vine” Avdonin is stuck watching the life she adores crumble around
her. Bad decisions have led to terrible consequences in more ways than one. She
doesn’t have time to recover from one devastating tragedy that leaves her
shattered before the next one is crushing down, too. Saving her husband from a
life sentence might be the easiest thing she has to do when her own misdeeds
are staring her in the face.

Together, Anton and Viviana have survived more than once, but this path will be
by far, the hardest they’ve ever walked. Sometimes they have to walk it alone …
because forgiveness isn’t always black and white and love can be blurred by
pain. With the blissful ignorance gone and the blinders removed, how much of
themselves will they have to sacrifice to come out on top one last time?

When everyone has a score to settle, it’s hard to notice the person causing the
most heartache is the one staring back in the mirror.

Final installment to The Russian Guns
Sequel to The Life

*Please Note: The Score is not a standalone title. The first books in the
Russian Guns series (The Arrangement, followed by The Life) should be read
first*

Anton
flinched, disgust filling him to the brim. This whole situation was horrible,
and he felt dirty with ten grimy fingers pointing straight at his guilty chest.

“Well,
aside from firing her, there’s not much I can—”

Anton
didn’t get to finish his sentence. A loud bang and shouted orders rang out in
the downstairs of the club. The tinkling sounds of canisters popping along the
empty floor echoed up to their spot. There was no denying what was happening
downstairs.

“Fuck,”
Ivan muttered.

Instantly,
Anton was off his office chair, ignoring the gun he knew was in the desk, and
the information of a shipment, never mind the laptop he should have tried to
somehow destroy. No, instead, the only thing he could think of was the little
boy on the floor with wide blue eyes and terrified, reaching for his father.

“Papa?”
Demyan cried.

“Shhh,
little man,” Anton whispered.

In
his arms, he held his son tighter and turned his back to the door of the
office. It seemed like only milliseconds, but his mind was running a million
miles a minute. Anton couldn’t begin to understand why the officials would be
raiding his club. His guys certainly hadn’t been given any indication and
they’d all been pretty quiet.

The
sounds of a dozen or more pairs of boots pounding up the metal staircase
ratcheted up Anton’s nerves to a breaking point.

“Anton
…” Ivan started to say. “Anton, give me your son!”

The
hardest thing Anton ever had to do, next to walking out of his house that
morning knowing his wife’s heart was breaking, was hand his trembling, scared,
and crying son off to another man. It was safer for Demyan, though.

No
doubt, they weren’t there for Ivan.

Anton
watched Ivan curl a fighting Demyan into his chest as he got to his knees on
the floor and automatically put his hands behind his head. The less threatening
he seemed at their entrance, the less likely they were to cause him harm, never
mind his son seeing it.

“Demyan,
it’s okay,” Anton repeated when the first kick to the door landed with a solid
thump. The second and third only followed louder, harder. “Hide his face,
Ivan!”

When
the door finally broke, it wasn’t a second before Anton found himself face down
on the floor, his son’s cries overtaking all other sounds. Cuffs tightened
around his wrists to an almost painful point, but Anton refused to show it. A
boot landed hard between his shoulder blades, keeping him pinned to the floor even
though he wasn’t fighting.